All of Arnold's resentment had flown right out the window the moment he saw Asher.

Asher said, "You must've been worn out over the past few days. You haven't eaten yet, right?"

He lifted the plastic bag in his hand, waving it in front of Arnold. "I remember you saying you don't eat carbs, but if you're feeling pressured or exhausted, you would reward yourself with some fried chicken. I bought fried chicken for you. I'm not sure which flavor you like, so I bought a few."

Arnold's throat bobbed, salivating with anticipation.

In the end, he still let the man in.

However, Arnold maintained a little of his pride and gave Asher a cold face, sitting on the chair indifferently as he tried hard not to look at the handsome man.

"As a doctor, saving lives is my duty. Even if it's not Chairman Thompson, I'll still do my best. You don't need to be so polite."

"Are you mad?" Ignoring his indifference, Asher asked softly instead.

Arnold's eyelashes fluttered. "Who... Who's mad?"

you're not mad, why

his face flushed, and he subconsciously glanced

reflection, his lips were tightly pursed, and his eyes and nose

out the fried chicken from the plastic bag and opened the boxes, placing them in front of Arnold. He had even prepared plastic gloves, being considerate in

hard." His voice was hoarse, carrying a hint

and he met Asher's deep

"It's just that my family is here, and my father is sick. I am the

his nose tingled again. He quickly grabbed a fried chicken and took a bite. "Why are you apologizing?

he stared at him. "Eat more. You've lost

to bring ketchup next time. My favorite is still the original flavor

gnawed on a drumstick while sizing him up, his lips curling in a satisfied angle. "Oh, you're sweet I guess

"Yes." Asher nodded seriously.

him, his pretty face magnifying in Asher's eyes. "Then do you like the suit more

eyes glinted with charm, drawing Arnold in without

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